


Fire

by lettercrime



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Desert Island Fic, M/M, Surfing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettercrime/pseuds/lettercrime
Summary: One surf session, when the waves are too big and the emotions are boiling over, Lance and Keith are left to leave their lives up to fate and survive with one another.Will they make it back home alive?
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 11





	1. Lance: Arrival

Hi, I’m Lance McClain and my therapist said this might be a good way to get over the “trauma” I went through. So, I guess we should start from the beginning. I remember, I was angry.

I was angry because mi mamá y papá told me that this was the last wildfire. That we were leaving. We live in Santa Barbara in California and it has some of the largest waves on the west coast, but mamá was done with the once a year evacuation and wanted to move away. 

The only problem I had with that was well, my surfing career would crumble, and I’d be leaving my best friend. We met each other in elementary school and have been best friends ever since. We often surf together but I’m the only one out of the two of us that participates in around the world surfing competitions and I honestly love it. 

But another reason why I couldn’t leave, was because of Keith FUCKING Kogane. If I left the ocean and left the trophies to him, he’d then be better than me. And that couldn’t happen. Nuh uh, no way, no how.

Anyway, I was angry and the swells were huge, but I didn’t care. It was a habit and I grabbed my surfboard. It was something that always distracted me easily and I ran towards the beach as fast as possible.

I went in. And after a few of the calmer waves, I tried the bigger ones. And that’s when I was knocked off my board and was washed underneath the waves. Everything was dark for a long time. 

Until I woke up and I was uncomfortably dry. My ribs hurt, my wet suit clung to my body, my lips were cracked, and my hair was caked in hot sand. The sun hung hot and heavy over me and the sand was uncomfortable on my back, thanks to its uneven surface. I groaned as I sat up and sand fell off of my body and out of my brown hair.

My surfboard was still attached to my ankle. I brought my baby onto the beach where I was and began walking into the island. I had so many questions but no one was there to answer them. I whined as I saw the raw jungle of this island not far from where I was standing.

It was time to explore the jungle. I needed water. First things first. Fresh water. I just had to remember what Marco taught me and I'd be fine. About 3 miles into the dense jungle, I was feeling hopeless. Until I heard the soft sound of running water. That’s when I found a small stream filled with freshwater fish. Thank goodness. Food, wood, and fresh water. Now the question was one of fire and shelter. I dipped my hands into the cool water and quickly drank the clear liquid. 

I saw myself reflected in the stream of water and wanted to retch once again. My skin was chapped from the mixture of salt, sand, and light sunburn. My hair was curled and had a sickening shine to it. My lip and brow were busted. My wetsuit surprisingly wasn’t ripped but it obviously wasn’t going to last as substantial clothes for long.

I washed off my sensitive face in the stream, washed the salt from my hair, and took small sips. I sighed and realized that I’d have to build shelter away from the sun, near the beach in order to be slightly comfortable tonight. I started to look along the jungle ground and picked up giant palm leaves and giant sticks to pile up between the jungle and the beach. I ran my hand through my clean wet hair and dreaded what I’d have to do. 

I’d have to go back into the, “OCEAN AND GRAB NETS!”, I screamed into the air. Obviously. I’d have to use those nets as rope and if I have extra, then as fish catching material. I ran a hand over my face and whined. I just got clean! I groaned which turned into a scream before going over to my discarded surfboard and taking it into the ocean with me. Hopefully there were a few at the surface.

And thankfully, whatever god there might be above didn’t hear my obvious plea for nets on the surface of the water and I had to go diving. Thankfully, there was plenty of net stuck on coral and fish which I was able to retrieve. Sadly, ocean pollution is an actual problem these days. So, this is surprisingly normal.

Which is good for me but not for the environment, and if I wasn’t in this position then who would clean off the poor, innocent corals! No one! Corporations are horrible. Anyway, back to the plot, I guess. I quickly tied the branches and sticks together with different lengths of net, amateur net ripper at my own service. 

Once I finished, I took a small break and sat on my surfboard. If I wasn’t found on this dumbass island, Keith Kogane would win all the trophies that I have fought tooth and nail for. Ugh, Keith Kogane is such a dumb bitch. Once I had finished lamenting over lost surf trophies, I got back to work.

By sundown, I had a cozy three wall hut built with a roof that was about the size of a queen mattress. Now, all I had to do was make a fire and warm bed. I just had to remember what Marco had taught me from camping.

Through a bit of difficulty, I had made myself a bed and a fire. I had put the fire close enough to my little shelter that I could feel the heat but, that my hut wouldn’t catch on fire. Time to go back to the jungle where I found sticks, leaves, moss, and a pretty flower for decoration.

My bed was pretty comfy. Except I was sleeping in the same wetsuit, no shower, and no blanket. And it was cold that night. What was I supposed to do? All that was warm was my feet from the fire which was stocked as high as I was comfortable with before I tried to close my eyes. And I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten in what felt like ages. I curled up in a ball and willed sleep to come through the cold, uncomfortableness, and hunger. 


	2. Keith: Washed Up

This is it, I was going to drown. I tried to fight for the surface as the waves pushed me under, but my surfboard dragged me down. Corals scratched at my skin and my surfboard tried to get to the surface as well, but hit me. I blacked out from the hit by my board.

I woke up to the feeling of cool water washing over my face. Maybe, the waves had pushed me back onto shore. I tried to open my eyes but they were caked with sand. The rough hands which cleaned my face would probably get there next. When they did, I opened my eyes to find piercing blue ones looking back at me. But then I saw the rest of the face and panicked.

Lance McClain, the guy I’d had a crush on since middle school. Lance McClain is a lean built, blonde haired, blue eyed, surfer boy. He’s the reason I wanted to start surfing seriously and entering competitions. I wanted to impress him. But he just seems to dislike me most of the time. Even going as far to call himself my “rival”.

I wanted to sit up but the blaze of the sun, the pain that ripped through my body, and the realization that Lance McClain was trying to help me. I saw his lips moving but I couldn’t hear him. It was like my body had gone through an explosion. Although my body creaked and groaned, I sat up, leaned my head to the side, and with a little push to the correct part of my ear, water poured out.

Lance simply kneeled next to me as I adjusted to, well, not being dead. I thought I was dead.

“Hey Mullet”, said Lance. I ignored him for using my shaking and sore muscles to push myself up.

“Earth to Mullet! You see, I didn’t think you could wipe out. Thought that was just something you didn’t do”, mocked Lance.

“Fuck off”, I groaned as I struggled to get on my feet. No thanks to Lance.

“Well fuck right off I will, back to my comfortable camp, emo boy.”

“That was middle school!”, I said indignantly.

“You still have a mullet, wear black ripped jeans, and leather jackets.”

“At least I don’t listen to MCR anymore.”

“Don’t you dare try to tell me you listen to Beyonce.”

“Sorry but Queen for life.”

“What’s your favorite? Fat-Bottomed Girls or some shit?”

“Ah Fat-Bottomed Girls is a good one.”

“Fuck off Kogane”, said Lance and walked over to a nicely built hut. I sighed and willed my legs to follow him.

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A day and a half?”

“Why did I show up later than you?”

“Yes, I’m a natural blue.”

“Not funny. What’s today’s date?”

“Might as well fry em’ up now, serve em’ with chips!”

“Stop quoting Nemo.”

“Stop asking me questions I can’t answer.”

“Did you build that hut?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Now where do I get the supplies?”

“Nets are in the ocean.”

“So you’re telling me-“

“Go wash up in the stream a couple of miles into the jungle and then go diving for nets in the ocean.”

“Do you have any extra nets?”

“No.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re the one dragging your surfboard like it’s dead weight.”

“Don’t talk to my baby like that", I said indignantly. Lance put his hands on his knees and looked right at my board.

“You’re dead weight sweetie.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah. I think so. You’ve said that twice by now anyway”, said Lance.

Lance was quick to pull my surfboard up next to me. It was scratched and some blood was on it. Whether it was mine or a fishes, I have no idea.

“Can you pick up the surfboard?”

“I’m just pondering who’s blood that is."

“Pondering is a big word, mullet boy.”

“Well is it my blood?”, I asked.

“Seeing the state of you, probably.”

I groaned and picked my surfboard up. I quickly glided into the ocean and started diving for nets. I filled the front of my board with them before I stopped. I paddled back to shore and was quick to start tearing them into what would look like rope.

“So where’s this stream you were talking about?”, I asked Lance.

“I’ll just lead you to it.”

Lance was a lot swifter than me as he walked through the jungle. I stumbled, struggled, and at one point fell and watched him almost disappear from sight before I recovered. Everything was on fire.

I finally caught up to him when we reached the rushing stream of fresh water. When I looked in the water, I immediately flinched back. My eyebrow was slit through, the side of my bottom lip swollen, my wetsuit was torn, and I honestly didn’t want to see the rest of me.

Lance was quick to take the opportunity to fish, I tried to drown myself in the cool freshwater stream. When I came back up, I tried to sort through the knots in my hair but they seemed endless.

“You got anything sharp?”, I asked.

Lance handed me an actual steak knife.

“I found it washed up on the shore a few miles East”, explained Lance.

The knife looked sharp and I wasn’t about to waste time, I cut off my hair. Lance gasped and dropped his fish. It made my scalp throb with the force I had to use to cut through my hair. The sawing motions helped but, it still hurt. I felt the back of my head and all that hair was gone. I sighed and rinsed my hair once again.

Lance re-caught his fish in silence. When we were walking back, I tried to hand the knife back to him.

“Keep it. I know your hair was important to you.”

“How would you know that?”

“Shiro has long hair as well. I realized it was a family thing when Shiro told me he adopted you as soon as he turned 18.”

“Shiro knew me before he was 18. I know it broke him to see me go from foster home to foster home.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, man. I don’t know where I would be without my parents”, said Lance.

A few minutes of silence cascaded between us as I picked up branches and palm leaves. Lance eventually broke the silence.

“How’d you get here?”, asked Lance.

“I was pulled under the waves. They were just, so big.”

“Same. I thought I could focus but, I lost it.”

“Were you mad?”, I asked. I remember being mad that day.

“I was. It’s complicated.”

“I was mad too. I don’t remember why anymore.”

“You’ve always had anger issues.”

“You’d know that well”, I said.

“We’ve been surfing together how long?”, asked Lance.

“Gosh man, it’s been years. Why?”

“I just feel like we know so much about each other, but we’ve never taken the time to get close to one another”, said Lance with a hint of sadness in his voice. He batted away the bug that flew too close.

“We’re “rivals”, remember?”

“Lance and Keith, Keith and Lance…”

“Rivals forever”, I finished.


	3. Lance: Struggling

Once Keith had stumbled back through the forest, he dropped the branches and palm leaves he had picked up onto the beach. He looked over at my structure and immediately began to build his own. I wouldn’t want to sleep without a hut either.

I decided I would cook up something while he was building. He looked, terrible and I didn’t have any medical supplies. Maybe I could go scouting for some more torn cloth to use as bandages after lunch. Cooking fish was getting easier since I had a small supply of island fruits piling up. I borrowed the knife from Keith and started sawing away at some pineapple.

Pineapple and fish couldn’t be too bad together right? By the time I had finished cooking our lunch, Keith had managed to get one wall built but he seemed to have trouble figuring out a good support system. He didn’t have the rods that I had when I first started building my hut so I wasn’t surprised.

“If you’re hungry, come get some fish or I might just eat it all myself”, I called. This quickly broke Keith’s thought process as he ran towards me at the thought of food.

“Thanks for cooking Lancey”, said Keith as he sat down next to me.

“No problem? Keithy?”, Keith blushed and shook his head.

“Sorry but you ruined it. Keithy doesn’t sound cute.”

“But Lancey does?”

“Oh I’m sorry Lance McClain, King of the Ocean, Lover Boy-“

“Alright Keith Kogane, edge lord, lone wolf man-“

“They call me Tailor because of how I thread the needle.”

“If I hated you enough, I would throw sand right into your eyes.”

“Edge lord Lance coming through with the threat!”

“You watched sports once!”

“How dare you! Shiro and I love to watch sports together!”

“Oh yeah who’s your favorite team?”

“Well it’s Shiro’s favorite team but I enjoy them anyway.”

“Do you watch football?”

“American or not American?”

“We’re talking not American here.”

“Shiro likes soccer. I’m more into watching the surfing competitions.”

“We’re usually in the surfing competitions.”

“That’s why it’s fun!”

“So you just like to watch our rivalry unfold on the flatscreen too?”

“It’s definitely something that keeps me up”, said Keith jokingly. A friendly elbow to the side was what we needed to go back to the task at hand, eating lunch.

After lunch, Keith was quick to try to get back to building a hut for himself and I decided to scout the beach for anything useful that may have washed up. Lucky me, I found cans and a soft windbreaker. Waterproof on the outside, t-shirt material on the inside. I figured I'd give it to Keith since his wetsuit was torn.

As I walked back, I hung the windbreaker on my hut and started breaking apart the cans to turn into roofing material and plates for future meals. It was a bit depressing to think about, just Keith and I, stuck on an island, barely scraping by. I know the basics and so does Keith but, all we showed up with was a surfboard and our wetsuits. 

I sighed thinking about it but, I wasn't surprised that I felt this way. I was overtired. I do a lot outside often but never from dawn to dusk. The sun was starting to set and Keith's hut had three walls and half a roof. And I was starving. 

Keith decided to take a crack at the cooking and with my guidance, did a great job. As much as I would've loved to watch the complete sunset. I was too damn tired. So Keith followed me to my hut, threw an arm around my waist, and we fell asleep together on my small bed. 

Besides, he couldn't sleep with only half his roof finished. 


End file.
